


How Does it Feel to Be the Only Star in My Sky?

by Ryzaphelle



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Everything's Fine AU, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-08
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-08-20 07:19:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8241085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ryzaphelle/pseuds/Ryzaphelle
Summary: Set in an alternate universe where the Valg were never a threat to this generation; Aelin grew up to be the Heir of Terrasen with her family intact, Dorian grew up without a demonic father. The only conflict lies in who would end up with who. Dorian and Aelin have known each other since they were children, but found as young adults to be excellent bed partners. When a marriage threatens to destroy their relationship as a whole, it leaves them to wonder what it was in the first place.





	1. Bad Decisions

**Author's Note:**

> So this fic had been floating around my Google Docs for about 5 million years and I hadn’t had the courage to post it until now. This is my “everything is fine” au in which literally nothing bad happens, Aelin’s parents aren’t killed, there’s no Valg, the world hasn’t gone to shit, and don’t try to tell me Dorian and Aelin wouldn’t totally be fuck buddies.

The green and silver of the Terrasen flags flew proudly amongst the tall buildings of Rifthold’s cobbled streets. Many crept from their homes and workplaces to see the procession of white horses and silver-armoured guardsmen as the Royal family of Terassen paraded toward the monstrosity of stone and glass at the heart of the Adarlanian Capital. Trumpets sounded their arrival, alerting even the dirtiest of vagrants to their presence.

Some questioned the Royal family’s so sudden appearance in Adarlan, yet not even Aelin Ashryver Galathynius knew why she and her family had travelled all this way for something so mysterious and secretive. Nonetheless, she plastered on her most radiant smile as she regarded the Adarlanians with disdain, not that they were to know that.

In truth, she hadn’t visited Adarlan in a couple of years, mostly staying in her own kingdom of which one day she might very well rule as its Queen. Most concerning, however, was the presence of the neighbouring kingdoms’ royal families. Some didn't feel the need to send their King or Queen, and a vast majority of those invited to Adarlan ... were princesses.

Aelin swallowed her anxiety. No doubt this gathering would lead to a promise of marriage. After all, the King of Adarlan’s eldest son and heir to his glass throne was of marriageable age. _Well_ , Aelin snorted, _he’s been of marriageable age for quite some time now_.

She guessed as much when she first took him to bed two years ago.

Her courtiers always whispered of Crown Prince Dorian’s reputation with women. They warned her to stay away, that to be enthralled would make her no better than a harlot, that he would ruin her purity and maidenhead. Little did they know that her maidenhead had been lost to a serving boy a few months earlier.

She had known him since they were very young, even now he seemed as shy and apologetic as his nine year old self, but he regarded her with a new glimmer to his depthless sapphire eyes. Curiosity. Intrigue.

Lust.

She didn't miss the way he watched her appreciatively, the kind of gaze one had when they wondered what was beneath one's clothes. In this case, her lavender gown swished against the floor as she twirled about the ballroom with a handsome noble she didn't care to name. Not when she could feel Dorian’s cool eyes burning into her skin. The sleeves of her gown left her shoulders bare and her neckline was high enough to be considered modest, but also low enough to draw curious eyes.

Once the dance was finished, it wasn't long before Dorian swept her into another - not that she minded. “Took you long enough,” she said and lifted her chin.

He raised an eyebrow and a smirk pulled at his lips. “Forgive me, your Highness, but you are a rather menacing woman despite your beautiful exterior,” he replied before lifting her hand to his mouth to brush a kiss over her knuckles.

The sliver of contact made a small shiver shoot up and down her spine.  

Rolling her eyes, she said, “I dread to think what kind of king you'd be if you can't even approach a woman in ballroom.” Aelin knew she was playing hard to get, but where would be the fun in not working for her?

“I'm here now, aren't I?” He murmured as he leaned in close. “And patience is a virtue,” he whispered into her ear.

Gods, was her magic acting up? She felt like she was burning from the inside out at the hand at her waist and his lips which just brushed her skin. “You’ll find,” she replied steadily somehow, “that I am a very impatient woman.”

They had flirted for the rest of their dance, yet once the song had finished, they had become too enthralled to stop their feet from moving in synchronisation to the music. They had danced all but three songs until Aelin smirked at the feminine glares scorching her skin and said, “Surely there are other ladies worth your fancy?”

“To be honest with you,” Dorian replied, and she didn't not notice him leading her to the edge of the ballroom, “I’m not interested in the other court ladies.”

The next thing she knew, they were fumbling about Dorian’s tower bedroom with only the light of the moon to guide them to his more than large bed. As she kissed him, she resisted the immense urge to rip his clothes off - or burn them off - and focussed more on not tripping over. Once the backs of her legs bumped into the frame, she spun them around and pushed him back onto it

To his look of horror, she reached behind her back to her dress lacing and ripped it apart, leaving her in her corset and underthings. “I told you that I’m impatient,” was all she said in reply before crawling over to him to kiss him once more.

A sudden pain in her arm brought Aelin back to the present.

It was Aedion from the horse next to her, he had punched her in the arm. She flushed slightly and returned her attention to their convoy’s journey. At this point, they had now reached the castle, the ominous glass casting strange shadows over the city. Far atop a balcony, she spied two dark heads; one with a glinting crown, one without.

Despite this, Dorian’s presence was overwhelming. Even from such a height, her Fae senses felt everything. So much power, so much magic. Raw.

She looked away and lifted her chin, throwing her shoulders back and adopting her Royal facade she so often wore.


	2. Roses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, after years and years, I have written a second chapter!!  
> I'm really liking what I have planned for this story, it all comes together so nicely and I'm planning some actual smut for those of you thirsty readers out there ;) don't fret.  
> Also  
> Bi!Dorian is a thing y'all can fight me.

Crown Prince Dorian Havilliard watched the procession of Terrasen’s royalty from atop the glass balcony, a faint smile upon his lips. Beside him, Lord Westfall regarded it all with a bored gaze and turned to his friend with a raised eyebrow. “Don't even think about it,” he warned.

Dorian's smile deepened. “I don't know what you mean.” His sapphire eyes fell to the Crown Princess and his magic reached out toward her. It brushed a curl of her blonde hair with a phantom finger, but he knew the princess to simply dismiss it as the wind.

She looked rather attractive in her creamy blouse, high-waisted black trousers, and polished riding boots. But he'd seen her look beautiful in even more clothes - and far less.

He admitted that he'd grown bored of his current flock of courtiers, this... _parade_ his parents organised, gave him the opportunity to venture out from his normal circles. But then his eyes had fallen upon Aelin Galathynius and his curiosity had been peaked.

Beside her, rode her cousin, Aedion, and he would not lie and say he was not interested in the Ashryver prince as well. Although, Dorian’s interest was usually found in the bodies of any gender.

The vast iron gates of the palace opened for the Galathynius family, Prince Rhoe and Princess Evalin entering his home first, shortly followed by Aelin and her cousin.

“You’re not teenagers anymore, Dorian,” Chaol finally said with a disapproving tone. “You can’t possibly make this work with all of _this_ going on.” He gestured back to the castle and the guests that were currently living inside.

Shrugging gracefully, Dorian regarded his friend with a defiant look before turning to head back inside. It was a while, but Chaol decided to follow him as they exited the room, travelling down the halls, down the stairs until they reached the atrium where the king and queen were meeting with the newest batch of guests.

His eyes found Aelin first, the power slumbering within him sensing the fiery will writhing beneath her skin. Even with her eyes fixed on the king, he could tell she was watching him, and he was sure of himself in the knowledge that the years apart hadn’t done anything to dissipate the bond between them.

“Ah,” the king said when he noticed Dorian and Chaol standing at the base of the stairs. “My son,” he continued, gesturing for the prince to stand by his father’s side. He put a hand on his shoulder once Dorian joined them, and said, “Like a prize to be one,” Dorian resisted the urge to scowl, “He has also become quite the magic user…”

Taking that as a cue to demonstrate his abilities, Dorian cupped his hands - one on top of the other - and crafted a little glass rose in full bloom. Evalin and Rhoe seemed quite impressed, whereas Aedion seemed more suspicious of the prince as Dorian presented the rose to Aelin. She took it, examining it appreciatively, as his father spoke again.

“I called the best tutors and magic users from across the continent to teach my boy,” Dorian rolled his eyes, “but none of them know what to make of him. Such infinite abilities, able to shape them into whatever he desires.”

“Father,” Dorian cut in, “are you going to flatter me all day or can the Terrasen royal family actually get some rest after travelling for so long?” He lifted an eyebrow and gazed at his father who shot a look at him but let them go, ordering some guards to escort them to their rooms.

A little later, Dorian leaned against the doorway to Aelin’s rooms as she unpacked. It was surprising how she hadn’t asked one of the handmaidens to do it for her, but a smile crept up on his lips nonetheless.

“A prize, are you?” Aelin wondered, but did not stop from her chores. “Is that why I was invited to this absurd castle?” He couldn’t tell how she felt about it all, her voice sounded sharp but there were also causal undertones.

He shrugged even though she had his back to him as she dug through her chests. “You’ll find out more about that tomorrow,” he reassured her. “For now, you should rest.”

She closed the chest and turned around leaning against it. A gleam was in her eyes now, a gleam that he hadn’t seen in two years. “What if I don’t want to rest?” she asked softly.

“That all depends on you,” he replied suggestively.

She cocked her head to the side and regarded him for a moment, her eyes dragging up and down his body. Then, she stood and walked over to the fireplace and reached for the glass rose that she had placed on the mantle. Glancing up at his crown, she asked, “Did you make that as well?”

The glass was of his own creation so it disappeared from his head at a wave of his hand.

“What else can you do?” she asked, her voice taking on a more seductive tone as she sauntered towards him.

Behind them, the hearth caught alight and she glanced back in fascination. Fire was usually _her_ element. Then the temperature dropped and the fire froze in place. She turned to him again and he smirked, “I can just about do anything; fie, ice, glass...I can even touch things,” he added, his phantom hands popping a button from her blouse, “with my mind.”

They were so close now, lips so close to touching, and he pulled her to him by the waist, pressing their mouths together in a slow, teasing kiss.

It lasted forever, a promise with every slant of their lips, and when she broke away, they were breathing heavily. Barely able to form words, Dorian confessed, “I’ve been wanting to do that ever since I laid eyes on you.”

“Oh really?” Aelin wondered, kissing his jaw. “And what else have you been wanting to do?”

He smirked. “This.” He picked her up, wrapping her legs around his waist, and carried her towards the bed. The doors slammed behind them and he locked them with his magic, placing her on the bed before climbing on top of her to kiss her more passionately than before.

Her fingers ran through his hair then pulled at his clothes, practically tearing them as he did hers. They discarded their clothes onto the floor until there was no more fabric restricting them from each other, and as soon as he was inside of her the fire place exploded with flames from her magic.

Oh, how he had missed her.


	3. All About Us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this is gonna be the longest fic I've written so far like I have such high hopes for this series and I'm really enjoying it so far my only hope is that others enjoy it as much as I do~  
> Of course, I'm still going to write it, it's my way of vent really~
> 
> This is a little NSFW but not too much

“Found you!”

Dorian huffed from where he was previously hiding in the kitchen cupboard and scowled at the eight year old crouching down to look at him. Aelin smiled in triumph, having beaten the foreign prince at hide and seek for the fifth time in a row.

“That’s not fair,” Dorian whined as he climbed out of the cupboard, standing to his full height with the little princess a few centimetres below him. “You live here! You already know all the good hiding spots,” he grumbled as he scuffed his shoe against the kitchen floor.

The kitchen was fairly empty save for a few serving staff on duty at this hour. It was about mid-afternoon, so preparation for dinner would begin shortly.

Aelin still wore her victorious smirk and merely cocked her head to the side and she looked up at him. “Maybe you should find new hiding places then,” she suggested with child-like innocence, and grabbed his hand with hers. She pulled him along out the kitchen as he grumbled under his breath, down the halls until Dorian piped up again.

“So, what do you want to do now?” he half-asked, half-spat at her.

She dragged him up a set of stairs making her way to her uncle’s study. “I want you to see Uncle Orlon,” she said brightly as they approached a couple of guards outside a set of grand oak doors, one of them open ajar where a crack of sunlight came through. One of the guards looked at the pair of children in an odd way but pushed the door open for them nonetheless.

King Orlon was sat in one of his armchairs dotted beside the fireplace, in the others were her parents, her uncle’s Captain, Aedion even though he looked so out of place with the adults, and Dorian’s father the King of Adarlan. The group were laughing at something funny, Dorian didn’t know what, but he smiled in greeting as they approached anyway.

“Ah, Dorian,” the King of Adarlan greeted when he saw them coming. “I trust you’ve been getting along with her Highness?”

“Yes, fath-”

“ _ Absolutely _ , your Majesty. Dorian and I have been getting on  _ so _ well, we’ve been playing hide and seek and we had a tea party and-” Aelin rambled on for a few more minutes, much to the adults’ amusement - Aedion was slouched in his chair as he grumbled, “-and  _ that _ , your Majesty, is why I have come to you to request your son’s hand in marriage.”

There was a deafening silence in the room as the royals and nobles inside contemplated what Aelin had proposed. Then the King of Adarlan burst out laughing, shortly followed by the court of Terrasen as Dorian just stood there mortified. His face had gone bright scarlet and he snatched his hand from Aelin who was not fazed at all. Her mouth was drawn into a radiant smile which made Dorian wonder if being married to her was so bad after all.

Who could deny the logic of an eight year old?

~

Aelin sighed at the dregs of release still lingering in her veins and grinned at the handsome young man beneath her. The prince merely smirked with her and pulled her down for another kiss, his fingers woven into her messy yet silken hair.

“Oh, how I missed you,” she admitted to him once they broke away and fell down onto the bed beside him.

Dorian cocked an eyebrow. “I'm flattered, but did you miss me as a  _ whole,  _ or did you only miss  _ parts  _ of me?”

Scrunching her nose up at him, she then replied, “Well, I missed your beautiful eyes...your more than capable mouth,” she pecked a kiss to it as she continued, but her hand slithered southward beyond the bed covers, “and your magnificent c-”

“Are you this generous to  _ all _ your bed mates or am I a special case?” he cut in smoothly, turning on his side and propping his head up with his arm.

“Hmm,” she shrugged. “Only for my most satisfying partners.” A cheeky grin then appeared on her lips.

Dorian bit his lip. “Do you have any idea how much that inflates my ego?” he asked, before capturing her lips with his once more.

“How much?” she asked when he broke away, leaving her panting ever so slightly.

“Enough for me to do this.”

He dove beneath the covers.

“ _ Nononononono, _ ” Aelin laughed as she ducked out of the prince’s grasp and sat up on the edge of the bed. “I need to get back to my court,” she confessed, scooping up her blouse from the floor, then tugged it over her head as she added, “I’m sure my disappearance has aroused suspicion already.”

Soon, his arms were around her waist as he sat up behind her. “Don’t go,” he moaned into her ear before pressing his lips to her neck, his hand creeping up her shirt to grasp her breast. She bit her lip in attempts to fight her smirk, but Dorian had always been clingy with her.

The quieter fire that still blazed in the hearth provided a warmth that raised goosebumps all over her skin, and Dorian’s neck kisses weren’t helping either. Then his other hand slid between her thighs as his lips kissed up her jawline until she kissed him over her shoulder.

She moaned into his mouth but made herself pull away, she seized his hands and took them away from her body. “I need to go,” she said with finality, getting up to search for the rest of her clothes.

Dorian collapsed on the bed from her absence and whined like a puppy in need of attention. “Please stay,” he pleaded, “I’ll do anything you ask.”

“Anything?” Aelin asked with a chuckle, turning back to him with a raised eyebrow. Then she grinned and, scooping up her underwear from the floor, wondered, “Ah, the great and lecherous Dorian Havilliard, practically on his knees and begging  _ me  _ for sex.” She watched him, underwear dangling from her upraised finger, as leaned back on the mountain of pillows on her bed, hands behind his head - making no move to dress himself even though this was  _ her  _ room.

“What makes me so special?” she asked finally in a quiet voice.

Dorian took a long time to answer, by the time he did she was fully dressed and was sat at her vanity, combing through her hair and neatening her cosmetics. His answer was simple, “Because you are, by far, the most beautiful woman I have ever met.”

She snorted as she re-pinned her hair into place. “Of course,” she scoffed, “I already know I’m ethereal, you don’t have to waste your breath in flattering me. And I’m sure there are plenty of other girls who’ll oblige your request.”

She examined her features once more before standing from the vanity and was surprised to see that Dorian had moved from the bed and was now in the process of re-clothing himself. “How disinterested you’ve become,” he said, an amused tone in his voice, his eyes moving from the fire to hers. “If I remember correctly, about a decade ago you were demanding that I marry you.”

She huffed out a laugh, sauntering closer to him with her arms crossed. “And about fifteen minutes ago, I was riding you harder and faster than I would my horse. Funny how things change,” she cooed, and with that she tapped him on the nose with a finger and left her rooms.


	4. Something Better

The next morning, Aelin found herself stood before a graying man on a glass throne. He didn’t look too bad for his age, he was stockily built and a sword with a wyvern shaped pommel glinted at his side. In fact, the whole throne room was decorated with bipedal wyverns; on tapestries, on furniture, they were even carved into the marble mantle above the roaring fireplace to her left.

Surrounding her were too many eligible maidens to count, many of whom she already knew, others of which she had heard of in passing; Lady Elide of Perranth, Lady Kaltain, Manon of the Crochan Kingdom, and…

A grin appeared on Aelin face as she spotted a familiar princess standing not too far away. Her dark, coiled hair hung loosely across her shoulders and a gold diadem glinted from her forehead, the loose, white gown she wore was of the finest satin decorated with beads and jewels that shone like far away stars.

Aelin threaded her way through the cluster of girls as they chatted and gossiped with each other, yet soon she found herself face to face with Princess of Eyllwe. “Nehemia!” she greeted, enveloping the taller woman into a hug.

“Oh, Aelin, it’s been so long!” the princess replied, returning the embrace. “How have you been?”

“Well enough,” the Princess of Terrasen answered, stepping back to hold her friend at arm’s length. “And yourself?”

“Cold,” Nehemia chuckled. “I miss the Eyllwe sun, my parents sent me here,” she threw her hand up, gesturing flippantly at the room, the king, the girls, “for whatever  _ this  _ is.”

“Yes, mine too,” Aelin confessed. “Do you have any idea what’s going on?” she asked.

“I don’t” she replied, then glanced up at the dais as a figure appeared beside the king, “but I have a feeling this has something to do with that spoiled prince up there.”

Aelin turned to see Dorian standing dutifully at his father’s side, he didn’t even look at her as he swept his gaze over the fifteen or girls stood before the dais. The king raised his hand, signalling for all conversation to cease.

“Welcome to my home,” the king boomed.

_ Feels less of a home and more of a gigantic window, _ Aelin thought bitterly, glad that her rooms were situated in the stone castle and not the glass sheet that they were all currently standing on, separating her from certain doom.

“You’re all here today at my request,” the king continued, “as my messengers have scoured the continent in search of the most eligible maidens at the consent of their guardians.” He spread his arms open, in honesty, in welcome. “And now you are all here,” his hand drifted to gesture at his son, “to compete for the hand of my son.”

There were excited titters, girly squeals, and a few scoffs.

One scoff in particular was louder than others. Manon, the Crochan heir, burst through the crowd and headed for the door. “If you think I am taking part in an absurd competition to win the hand of your pretty-boy son, your Majesty, then you are sorely mistaken,” she hissed, her scarlet cloak billowing out behind her.

The king did not shout, but there was a tenseness to his face now. “May I remind you that the Crochan nobility  _ sent  _ you here, that means they expect you to  _ remain _ ,” the king shot back, causing the witch to freeze in place, one finger just brushing the door handle.

Manon turned back around, a vicious smirk on her face. “Then I will remain, your Majesty, but know that I have no interest in marrying your son - no matter how handsome his face is,” she replied venomously and gave Dorian a wink before disappearing out the door.

Aelin blinked, but Manon’s words hung around in her head. The notion shook her; she was in competition for the queen’s crown, she already had one of those but to marry Dorian…?

Not knowing how to feel, her eyes fell to the crown prince who was staring at a ghost of iron teeth and golden eyes. However, as if pulled by an invisible string, his eyes met hers and he gave her an apologetic smile.

What did this mean for their relationship? They’d have to be more careful of course, anyone could accuse her of cheating if they were desperate enough.

Why did it have to be Dorian? She could have anyone in this castle if she liked, she was Crown Princess after all, she could even have a vagrant off the street.

Or maybe not.

Though her mind triggered memories of his lips on her skin, the sensation of his body over hers, the way he satisfied the hunger writhing inside of her. It was hard to remember someone who had ever done that to her.

But maybe it was only because he was fresh in her mind.

Cursing herself, Aelin looked away and instead focussed her gaze on the king who had begun to speak again. “Even though we’ve already lost one, the competition will go on for fifteen weeks, eliminating one girl per week in tests arranged by the council and court.

“The competition will end shortly after yulemas with a duel for the two remaining competitors. The winner of this duel will be the crowned Princess of Adarlan, and my daughter-in-law.

The King smiled slightly in hopes to further reassure those doubting the legitimacy of this competition. “These tasks will be ones of agility, stamina, diplomacy - all of which you’ll need in a marriage with my heir.” Aelin caught a glimpse of Dorian’s scoff at that. “Now,” the king looked at each and every one of them, “does anyone else, like the Crochan Princess, wish to withdraw their participation?”

Aelin thought about it, about bolting right out of the doors and never looking back, but her parents had brought her here for this - she couldn’t just turn her back on that.

But the thought of marrying  _ any _ man left a sick feeling in her stomach.

But she  _ knew  _ Dorian.

But she only wanted him for sex, nothing else.

But-

No.

Aelin sighed but stayed where she was, noticing that Nehemia did not move either. Only one other girl left but the vast majority of girls stayed planted to the floor, waiting for the king’s next speech.

“I’m grateful that you stayed for whatever reason it is,” the king said lightly, “now, go, rest, the first test will start in a few days but you will report to the training grounds tomorrow morning.”

Before she left, she cast a look to Dorian and raised an eyebrow.

_ What will the test be? _

He shrugged as discreetly as possible.

_ Who knows. _


	5. Closer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my Gods I'm having so much fun writing this series at the moment I just can't stop writing. I want to thank you all so much for the support on previous chapters it really makes my day.
> 
> In terms of plot and characters, I will be drawing points from all incarnations of the series i.e Queen of Glass, mixed with my own little head canons as well. I really hope you enjoy this chapter ~

“Why is this necessary, father?” Dorian asked the man on the glass throne, his tone bored but also curious. He stood not too far from the raised dais, posture erect but casual enough with his hands in his pockets. He looked up to his father, once more noting the lack of similarity they had to each other.

The King of Adarlan leaned forward, one arm braced on his leg, the other hand set upon the glass wyvern that served as an armrest. The fur cloak he wore wrapped around him like a wild beast and the crown upon his head glinted in the firelight. “I need heirs, Dorian,” he stated, “you’re getting old-”

“I’m twenty.”

The king glared at his son for interrupting before speaking again. “And it’s better to secure a marriage now before all the good nobility become unavailable. That’s why I invited all these Ladies and Princesses here, at least you’re getting a choice in the matter.” He raised an eyebrow at Dorian, then continued, “Would you prefer your mother and I to pick a bride for you?”

Dorian’s brows lowered but he kept to himself, choosing his words carefully before replying, “If it is ultimately my choice then why have this absurd competition in the first place? Surely, a skill in swordsmanship is not a requirement in this marriage?”

“Not exactly, no,” his father replied. “But do you not want a woman who can handle herself?” A knowing smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “What about the Galathynius heir?” he asked nonchalantly. “I have been told that you are quite close.”

_ Quite,  _ Dorian thought with an inward grin.

But his heart also flipped at the notion of a betrothal with Aelin Galathynius.

He’d admit that out of all the girls proposed that morning, he felt drawn to Aelin the most. He had dismissed it simply due to the state of their relationship, nor was he very familiar with the other girls.

In actuality, he also felt a certain loyalty to her whilst she resided in his home. Other, perhaps  _ prettier  _ girls had caught his eye but he could not imagine sharing a bed with any of them as he had with Aelin. Her writhing on top of him, beneath him, screaming his name. Her lips on his, on his neck, on his chest, on his length, branding him as her own. Just thinking about her and what they had done the day before set his nerves alight.

Maybe he would find her again later.

“I don’t think Princess Aelin would be an appropriate choice,” he contradicted himself in saying, finally. “She is, technically, next in line for the throne of Terrasen and I don’t think it in our country’s best interests to unite our families in that way just yet.”

“Are you sure?” his father asked in reply, taken aback by his son’s statement, yet Dorian detected a disbelieving glint in his dark eyes. “She’s a very pretty girl.”

Dorian snorted. Such things weren’t heard often from his father’s lips.

“Why didn’t you tell them that it’s my choice?” he asked, trying to change the subject from Aelin Galathynius and her gorgeous body.

The king raised an eyebrow but said nothing for a moment, then he answered his son’s question, “They’ll try and get cozy with you Dorian. Anything to win your favour. In not disclosing that it’s ultimately your choice,  they’ll leave you alone and concentrate on winning the eyes of the council and myself.”

Dorian nodded and made to turn away, dismissing himself.

“The same goes for you, my son,” the king stopped him by saying. Dorian looked back at his father. “I don’t want you... _ frolicking _ ...with any of these girls, you hear me? I don’t want a flock of them coming to me, wailing that you got them pregnant and therefore must marry you by default.”

_ Too late to stop me “frolicking,” father,  _ Dorian mused with a faint smile.

“Yes, father,” he replied and left the throne room.

~

Dorian stroked the short, silky coat of one of his bitches’ newest pups. One thing the crown prince loved above all else were his dogs. Be them bred for the home or the race track, he had enjoyed their company since he was a young boy of seven, there was never a day he hated them.

A chuckle sounded across from him on the hay-strewn floor. “Maybe you should marry it,” Chaol suggested, a grin on his face. “You certainly look at the pup more lovingly than you do any of those girls.”

“Maybe I should,” Dorian replied as he scratched the pup behind the ear. “I would spoil it with the finest collars and dog beds, and it would eat only the juiciest of steaks.” Smiling softly, he lifted the pup in the air and gazed up at it.

Chaol went silent and Dorian shifted his eyes to the figure standing at the enclosure’s entrance. Her dress was a modest turquoise adorned with gold embroidery, matching her eyes, and she didn’t wear much in the way of jewellery; only a simple gold locket and similar earrings. Her hair was pinned half-up, half-down, the blonde locks shining in the midday sun like starlight.

“Would you apply that same courtesy to your future wife, your Highness?” Aelin asked, an eyebrow raised and her lips quirked up in a mischievous smirk.

That cruel, wicked mouth.

He scoffed, “Absolutely  _ not _ , your Highness,” and returned her smile. “Unlike  _ some _ of the men in my court,” he pinned a glare on Chaol who scowled, “I prefer to treat my women with respect.”

“ _ Your  _ women?” Aelin insinuated, leaning over the gate as she sneered.

_ Am I among these women you possess? _

He cocked his head to the side and gazed at her with his sapphire eyes.

_ If you so choose to be. _

She hummed to herself and raised an eyebrow.

_ Are there any merits? _

_ You’ll find out later. _

“Would you like to join us, your Highness?” Chaol suddenly asked, jolting them out of their unspoken conversation, and both pairs of eyes fell to the lord.

A puppy yapped as Aelin surveyed the enclosure, scrunching her nose up at the dirty floor and the scratchy hay. “I would,” Aelin said, her nose slightly unwrinkling, “but this is a new dress, and I’d rather not dirty it with whatever is on that floor.”

“No worries, your Highness” Dorian replied then removed the pups from his lap, patting his thigh. “You can sit here.”

She sucked in a breath, pinning him with a glare that could skewer less resilient men. No doubt about it, she was going to murder him once she got him alone.

“I’d rather sit with Chaol,” she smiled venomously. “He seems less inclined to ignore me in favour of a mongrel.”

Chaol choked in attempts to hide his laugh.

More sinister, however, a sudden vision flashed through his mind of Chaol clutching Aelin to him, balls deep as Aelin cried out in bliss. It made his blood boil and he didn’t know why. The princess wasn’t his, she belonged to no one but herself, she could do whatever or whomever she wanted, and he had no right to lay claim to her.

Dorian stood, scooping up a puppy in the process, and stalked over to the gate, standing right before Aelin as he held up the puppy. “I’ll have you know,” he started, gazing into her eyes with a relaxed smile on his lips, “that Maximus here is a purebred.” Practically shoving the puppy in her face, he commanded, “Look into his eyes and tell him he’s a mongrel.”

She pouted, but kept her eyes on his. “No,” she said curtly.

“Look at him.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yeeeees.”

“Noooooo.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.

“Don’t talk to me or my dogs ever again,” Dorian said, pretending to be upset as he clutched the pup to his chest.

Aelin hummed haughtily. “Fine by me,” she said simply before turning and leaving, nose stuck up in the air as she held her skirts.

Dorian could only gape.


	6. Filthy Habit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's short I know but it was just a filler chapter before things start picking up plot-wise, I hope you all enjoy~  
> (Slightly NSFW)

Dinner was exceptionally boring.

Sat in the massive dining hall, Aelin had managed to chew and gossip her way through the first two courses and was about a quarter of her way through dessert when she felt the hand at her shoulder. Her head whipped around, but there was nothing there.

Her brows lowered, she felt the pressure of skin to skin contact but there was nothing to see. Then her brain clicked at a passing comment from the day before and her eyes fell to Dorian.

He was sat at to the right of the king at the royal table, conversing with his father occasionally but still his eyes found hers from across the room. He lifted an eyebrow.

_ Shall I continue? _

Her teeth found her lip.

_ Within reason. _

She turned away from him and continued to take small bites of her dessert, turning to scowl at Aedion who clearly thought table manners were for chumps at all the food and drink splattered about his place at the table.

Herself and her competitors were sat at a separate table, each girl had brought a companion with her. In Aelin’s case, it was Aedion, but she didn’t choose to have him escort her, as evidenced by the embarrassment he was becoming. Some of the girls looked to the middle of the table where she was sat to giggle at the idiot beside her.

She didn’t know if they were giggling because he was handsome, or if it was because they saw him as a disgrace to Terrasen.

Then she felt it, an icy finger dancing about her skin, raising goosebumps in it’s wake. She refused the urge to shiver and glared at her food as the finger continued to travel down down beneath the neckline of her gown. She felt the hand then grasp her breast and she leaned into it’s touch even though there was nothing there. A thumb brushed over her nipple causing it to rise from the slight chill.

“Are you alright, Aelin?” Nehemia asked from across the table.

Her eyes snapped up to the princess opposite. “Uh- yes, the dessert- it’s very...sweet,” she stumbled over her words.

Another icy hand swept down her abdomen and between her thighs causing her to ditch her dessert altogether. A warm wetness began to pool itself there when Dorian’s icy fingers began to tease her, and she desperately hoped that the overwhelming smell of food would dull the scent of her arousal to the non-humans seated at the table, that included the oaf sat next to her.

“Perhaps it is,” Nehemia replied, prodding her own food with her spoon.

A moan lodged itself in her throat, and Aelin threw a quick glance to Dorian across the table. His sapphire eyes turned to hers and he drew a finger to his lips.

_ Quiet or I’ll stop. _

“Do they not have sweet treats in Terrasen, your Highness?” asked the girl next to her. She had dark hair and dark lashes that swooped over her ivory cheeks. Lady Kaltain Rompier. “After all, I’ve heard the common people possess...unsavoury traits,” she continued.

Aelin’s eye twitched, both from Dorian’s ministrations and from the ditsy ninny beside her. Did she just insult her people!? If it were not for the invisible hands working miracles on Aelin’s body, she probably would’ve burned this woman from the inside out.

“They do not, Lady Kaltain,” she replied instead. “In fact, I believe cultural customs such as manner and food traditions have no correlation to each other.”

“Ha!” Aelin would’ve shouted it if not for the fingers buried in her underwear and court etiquette of which she was expected to bestow upon even the most annoying of courtiers.

And so Aelin suffered throughout the rest of the meal, and even after that as the remaining guests chatted and gossiped whilst Aelin tried not to squirm at the movement of Dorian’s phantom fingers.

~

“I’ll be right back, I’ve just got to take care of something,” Aelin said to Aedion quickly before disappearing down another hall.

She found her target as he was about to climb a flight of stairs. “Your Highness,” she greeted Dorian with venom. “I was hoping to catch you before I retired to bed, what luck,” she remarked and linked her arm with his.

Dorian didn’t object and quite happily led her up the stairs to his tower. “How may I help you, your Highness,” he replied, a smug smile on his lips.

_ I thought you weren’t talking to me anymore. _

_ Oh, hush. _

Once they were out of earshot, she hissed, “How dare you do that to me? I could’ve been humiliated!”

“You didn’t enjoy it then?” he asked, suddenly concerned.

“No- I mean yes! I enjoyed it,” she sputtered, releasing a weight from his shoulders. “Ugh, you make me so crazy!” She let him go and threw her hands up in the air, huffing into the evening air. Then she hurried up the stairs and burst into his room, not hesitating to strip herself of jewellery and fabric.

She thanked Dorian silently for not allowing any servant staff into his room, otherwise they would’ve heard the desperate moans and rapid intakes of breath that came from the prince’s bedroom.


	7. Only You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lately, I've been caught up with so many things like college and Christmas and binge-watching Netflix series so you can't really blame me for not updating in forever.  
> Okay, you can.   
> However, now I hope to update at least one of my ongoing fics every weekend so yay! You have something to look forward to every week.  
> Enjoy~

Aelin woke to the sensation of fingers tracing patterns on her arm. She sighed in content and buried herself deeper into the pillows, savouring the dregs of sleep.

The fingers were warm, real, as they trailed from her arm to her stomach, the whole hand coming to rest on her abdomen as a thumb slowly stroked the underside of her breast. She felt a pair of lips begin to tease her neck and she smiled in bliss as her pulse was nipped and licked and sucked.

Casually, she murmured, “If you give me a hickey, I will rip off your balls and shove them down your throat.”

Dorian chuckled into her skin, but moved away from her neck, instead whispering into her ear, “I just can’t get enough of you.” His words and his breath sent shivers up and down her spine, and she surrendered to his touch if only to stay in this euphoric wonderland away from reality.

She turned over onto her stomach but bent her knee to spread her legs open. Grabbing his hand that was beneath her breast, she guided it between her thighs until his fingers found her clit. A half moan - half sigh passed her lips as he began to play with her, and he continued to slowly kiss down from her ear to her shoulder.

“I want all of you, Aelin,” he moaned, no doubt feeling how drenched she was now because of him, and she began to feel a hardness press up against her backside. “Just you, I don’t want anyone else while you’re here.”

Another moan vibrated in her throat, and she found it hard to say, “Fine...I won’t take another...man.” She would’ve moaned again had it not been for the prince flipping her over onto her back, his mouth kissed hers and he aligned his hips between her legs. However, before he could move, she forced their lips apart, yet still close enough to feel each other’s breath. “We need to be careful,” she whispered against him. “If anyone found out, I could be tossed out as a harlot or forced to marry you by default.”

He snatched her lips into quick kiss. “What-” Another kiss, to the corner of her mouth. “-would be so bad-” Another kiss, to her jawline. “-about marrying me?” He pressed a longer, lingering kiss to her neck, sucking at her pulse.

She lost her train of thought for a moment.

But Aelin didn’t say anything, and she flipped them over, her poised over him, hands pressed to his chest. She leaned over and bared her teeth but the sudden chiming of the clock interrupted their morning exercises.

Eight bells.

Flying off of him, Aelin frantically ran about the room, tossing on her dirty dress from the evening before. “Shit, I’m going to be late! Training would’ve already started, why didn’t you tell me what time it was!?”

Dorian looked vaguely offended. “I was simply trying to enjoy your company, I didn’t give a shit about the time!” He sprang from the bed also, looking for some clean clothes in the dusty maze of his room. 

“Ugh! And I can't wear this! I need to go back to my rooms,” she continued, punctuating her statement with a frustrated growl. “That'll take even more time and-” She collapsed onto the bed, head in her hands, half-dressed in the gown she wore the evening before.

Dorian came towards the bed to crouch before her. “Hey,” he cooed. “Stop worrying, it'll be fine.” He carefully pried her hands away from her face and made her eyes meet his. “There's some passages you can take that'll get you to your rooms and the training halls quicker and unnoticed.” Lacing their fingers together, he pulled her up. “Come on.”

~

When Aelin finally got to the training halls, a scary looking man that she’d been informed as Theodus Brullo was talking loudly - practically shouting - at the girls lined up below him from where he stood on a raised dais. As he talked, he cast a subtle sneer in Aelin's direction as she hurried to where the other girls gathered.

These girls were dressed in varying degrees of practicality; some wore training gear, some in loose shirts and trousers, and others wore dresses one often stuffed in the back of the closet. Aelin regarded them for a moment then merely shrugged it off. If this competition was purely physical then these particular girls would have been judged more harshly.

Not that Aelin was any better in her practical yet still fashionable attire. She cared about her appearance more than she cared to admit.

After Brullo rambled on for a few minutes more, he commanded the girls lined up to introduce themselves and state how capable they were with weaponry, sorting them into groups of “no teaching necessary”, “capable”, and “incompetent.”

The first group were dismissed to practice however they liked, the “capable” group were paired off with guards to spar with, and Brullo - with a lengthy sigh - rounded up all the “incompetent” girls and began demonstrating with different weapons.

Aelin, having been placed in the “no teaching necessary” category, walked leisurely around the halls, careful to stay away from the lower level girls who had begun throwing knives. As the princess inspected a weapons rack, a flash of scarlet led her eye to a figure draped over the railing of the mezzanine. Manon watched bemusedly from her perch at the girls attempting to wield weapons, in her hand was a medium sized pie that the witch occasionally dipped her fingers in to lick the rosy jam off them, finding the odd berry skewered by an iron nail every so often.

“She says she wants nothing to do with this competition yet takes the piss out of it and eats our food,” a voice said from Aelin's left.

She pretended as though she wasn't just frightened out of her skin as she turned to Lord Chaol Westfall and said, “That's what I'd do if I were her.” She smiled a little as she followed Manon's gaze to the object of her attention, or rather  _ person _ . “Besides, it not for spectating that she's here.”

Chaol merely hummed and shrugged as a way of response, picking up a mace from the rack before them. “So I see that you have been sorted into the “more than capable” group, might I challenge you to a duel?” he asked, then - deciding against the mace - put it back in its place.

“You may,” Aelin replied and picked up a couple of daggers, sheathing them in her belt, and picked up another two to hold. Then, with a smile, she added, “But prepare to get knocked on your ass, my Lord.”

When she turned around to locate an empty space to spar her eyes found Dorian as he leaned up against the wall not too far away. Her eyes narrowed slightly as he offered a wave of his fingers as a greeting to she and Chaol both, the latter making his way to his friend so the former followed begrudgingly. 

She was still annoyed at him for making her late.

“If you don’t mind me asking, your Highness,” Lord Chaol asked as he picked up a rapier from another rack, wielding it a few times in the air. “Why were you so late this morning?”

Aelin tried to sound casual as she examined her own daggers. “I was busy,” she offered, “doing...things.” She then looked up at him, trying not to shy away from him.

A snort sounded from behind them. “I’m things,” Dorian murmured, though it was loud enough for them to hear.

Spinning around, Aelin glared at him.

_ Shut up, or I’ll shut you up myself! _

Dorian shrugged from where he was leaning against the wall, but he also shrunk away from her gaze. “I  _ may _ have...told Chaol...about our nightly activities-”

His eyes widened at the dagger that embedded itself not too far from his ear, and he stumbled away from it.

“What we do with each other isn’t for you to gossip about with your friends!” she hissed, holding up another dagger to throw at him then whirled around to Chaol when he attempted to defend his friend.

“I’d watch where you’d throw that knife, Princess Aelin,” Brullo startled her by shouting from across the hall. “The goal is to _marry_ his Highness, not skewer him.” With a huff of frustration, Aelin threw one of her daggers at the floor, embedding itself in the wood.

“Excuse me,” said a voice from behind them. Aelin turned to see Nehemia walking towards them, she raised an eyebrow at Aelin’s readied dagger and the two boys slightly quivering behind her. “Am I interrupting something?” she asked at the scene before her.

Aelin glanced at the boys, then back at her friend. “No, Nehemia,” she said calmly, trying to appear nonchalant as she relaxed her stance. She gestured to the staff the other princess was holding, asking, “Do you wish to spar with me?"

“If you are not already engaged,” Nehemia replied, purposefully looking to the prince and his companion.

“No,” Aelin stated, “not anymore.”

Aelin joined Nehemia’s side as they walked around the hall, trying to find another space. Nehemia, the taller of the two, looked down to her friend with concern. “You seem tense today, did you not sleep well last night?”

Aelin sighed, “No, it’s not that,” - although she didn’t get much sleep anyway - “my period is due this month, I guess I’m just a bit hormonal.”

“That does not negate these feelings you are having, they’re just amplified,” Nehemia offered. “Maybe deep down, there is something you are feeling to make you act in this way.”

“Or it could just be hormones.”

“Or it could just be hormones,” Nehemia agreed, then bumped her shoulder to Aelin’s. “If you need me, I am here - but don’t let these hormones get you down. Now, come,” she stopped in the middle of the empty floor, holding her staff up in a defensive stance, challenging Aelin to attack. “Sparring is good for a woman’s health.”


	8. Desire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! A new chapter! Sorry if they've been short as of late, I'm just trying to get back into the writing groove. Again, I now have a writing schedule now so one if not all my ongoing fics should be updated every weekend!
> 
> Enjoy~

Aelin curled in on herself where she was sat on a futon by the fireplace. She tried to concentrate on the words of the novel in her hands but with the blinding pain coming from her abdomen, all the letters blurred and jumbled. She had sent a servant for a relaxing tea fifteen minutes ago and they still weren’t back yet.

Grumbling to herself, Aelin dumped her book on the cushions next to her and wrapped both arms around her waist until the pain started to ease. The drop of water magic she had inherited from her mother proved practically useless on herself, and it seemed that even her fae body could not heal the war in her womb.

There was a gentle knock at the door and Aelin, giddy for tea, got up herself and opened the door.

Then closed it again.

“Aelin, please, I’m sorry,” Dorian called from the other side.

“No,” Aelin replied sternly, but would not move from the door. “I’m not in the best mood to be dealing with you right now.”

“I’m sorry, I was wrong, I shouldn’t have said that to Chaol and I know that you’re in a more dangerous position now.” His voice was pleading, begging. Then he sighed, “I told Chaol of our affair after you left two years ago, call it bragging if you will, but I told no one else. I realise that telling him again was dangerous on your part, and I’m sorry, Aelin, I’m so so sorry.”

There was a vast silence then, and she could picture him, forehead pressed to the door, genuine regret on his face, sadness in his blue blue eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he said again finally. “I brought some gifts for you as well; some chocolates and some flo-”

She opened the door a crack, pinning him with her turquoise gaze. “Chocolate?” she said slowly, trying to hide the desperation and intrigue in her voice.

His lips drew into a sad smile and he held up the little silver tin which held the candies she desired. In his other hand was a bouquet of orange lilies and she narrowed her eyes at him.

“How do I know that this isn’t a bribe for sex?”

“No, no sex,” Dorian said hastily. “Just...an apology.”  

She looked into his sapphire eyes, and saw only honesty and regret. Without another word, she stuck an arm through the door for the chocolates. He obliged her and she let him in, throwing open the tin to stuff her face with the candies inside.

“Hungry?” the prince asked, watching her incredulously.

Giving him a dirty look, she huffed, “You would be too if your womb was threatening to tear itself apart.” With this, she threw herself back on the couch and watched him as he stood by the door.

“That time of the month, is it?” he asked, not at all fazed by her current state, at least on this exterior. She nodded before stuffing another candy in her mouth, and he fidgeted with the flowers as he continued, “In that case, would you like me to leave?”

She patted the couch beside her before she said, “I need some company, Nehemia has some family matters to attend to and Aedion would only make fun of me.”

“Then your cousin is an idiot,” Dorian replied, placing the lilies on a nearby table for a maid to sort out later, and made his way to the couch. “Only an idiot would make fun of a woman seething with the wrath of a thousand suns - especially if she is a fire user such as yourself.” He came and sat on the end opposite to her, watching her with an intrigued expression whilst she stuffed her face.

She offered a sarcastic, chocolatey smile in response.

Chuckling, Dorian’s gaze fell the the book beside her and he reached out to snatch it. “You read the Chronicles of Juryn?” he asked, as excited as a kid in a candy store. She didn’t even get a word in before he read the title and gasped. “And this is book five? It’s not even out yet, how did you get a copy so early?”

Aelin found herself grinning ear to ear, as she said, “I started the series a month ago and breezed through the first four books.I was heartbroken to hear that the next novel wouldn’t come out until next year. So when I found out that the author was from Terrasen, I bribed her so she’d give me an early release.” She shrugged, fascinated by Dorian’s boyish expression as he gazed at the cover with excitement and longing. “You can borrow it once I’m finished,” she offered.

“I can?” he asked her, dumbfounded. She nodded, eye twitching at another pang of pain in her womb. “Thank you…” he said breathlessly.

“You can read it now,” she added, “just...aloud, though. I want to read it too but I can’t really concentrate in my current predicament.” Gesturing to her abdomen that was starting to bloat, she then reached for another chocolate and popped it in her mouth.

Dorian gave her a look that said:  _ you’re going to make yourself sick if you keep eating. _

She merely gave him another chocolately grin.

He gestured from her to come closer and she obliged him, coming lean against him on the couch as he opened to book to page one, his other arm coming around her.  Before he started to read his hand slid beneath her sweater, over her painfully swollen belly to which elicited from her a confused expression. Then his hand began to warm, soothing the angry pain with his heat, and Aelin sighed, snuggling closer to him as he began to read.

~

They must have fallen asleep.

Dorian opened his eyes to see the dying embers of the fire place and he felt a weight pressed to his side. The novel had been discarded on the floor where it lay open on a random page. Dorian averted his eyes as not to spoil himself for the rest of the story.

His eyes fell to the young woman who lay atop him, noting that Aelin wasn’t a particularly attractive sleeper; hair all mussed and he was pretty sure a puddle of drool was collecting on his shirt.

Smiling, he attempted to adjust his position beneath her so they’d both be more comfortable. That’s when he saw the pointy-eared warrior sat at the table about a metre away. Aedion Ashryver regarded the prince with disdain as he spun a gold coin on the surface of the table.

“What do you think you are doing with my cousin?” Aedion accused.

Dorian feigned innocence as he replied, “She let me borrow her book, and I was reading it aloud when we must have fallen asleep.”

Aedion’s jaw feathered and his eyes narrowed. He knew something wasn’t right but it seemed he didn’t want to have the theory of the future king of Adarlan screwing his cousin to be confirmed. So he stayed silent, examining the prince for slip ups and weaknesses. Assessing him as one would an opponent in the ring.

Finally, he spoke once more. “She should be put into bed, otherwise she’ll complain about her back in the morning.”

Dorian nodded in agreement, not wanting to start anything with the Ashryver prince lest they draw the eyes of his father. Shifting beneath her, Dorian scooped the princess up in his arms and stood up, grunting at Aelin’s dead weight. She stirred slightly, opening her turquoise eyes a little, then nuzzled his shoulder with a sleepy sigh of content.

Starting towards her bedroom door, Dorian then stopped when Aedion stepping before him, holding out his arms. More of a demand than an offer to take her weight. Reluctantly, Dorian let her go and turned back towards the exit to her chambers, picking up the book that had fallen on the floor.

“Leave the book,” Aedion commanded and Dorian closed his eyes placing the book back down on a nearby side table as he made his way out of the princess’ chambers.

Once he closed the door behind him, he leaned against it and reprimanded himself for the rage that was building up inside of him. It was once again a reminder that he had no claim to Aelin and that they were playing a dangerous game. Two heirs to two powerful kingdoms shouldn’t be fooling around like this. Not at least until they were married.

But even  _ that _ wasn’t guaranteed.

Still, he didn’t want to lose her, and his life was so uneventful without her by his side.

He’d be more careful from now on.


End file.
